


unexpected

by misskatieleigh



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskatieleigh/pseuds/misskatieleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John never sees these things coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was written ages ago, just moving my LJ stuff to AO3 for archiving

 

John’s a little surprised when he starts finding food left out for him. At first it’s just in the jumpers; he’ll look up from the diagnostic he’s been running and there will be a Power Bar sitting by his hand, one of those rare kinds like caramel cookie or chocolate chip that don’t last a week past being dropped off by the Daedelus. He’ll pick up the bar, suddenly realizing that his stomach is growling.

The first time it happens he thinks maybe he forgot about bringing it and that it’s just coincidence. The second and third time he looks at the bar, confusion furrowing his brow, because he’s certain that he did not bring food with him and he double-triple checked his supply to be sure that all he has left is the bland oatmeal kind that he’ll only eat as a last resort. Still he shrugs it off, accepting the gift with a twisted smile. The kitchen staff has always liked him, or maybe one of the newest deployment of Marines is trying to make a good impression on their CO.

~

When John wakes up one day to find a cup of fresh coffee sitting on his nightstand, he starts getting a little worried. There’s a fine line between playing nice with your CO and an attempt at favoritism. John prides himself on treating all the military personnel in Atlantis the same, doling out praise for each and reprimanding in private whenever possible. It’s only as an afterthought that he realizes Atlantis let someone else into his room without his permission. He should probably be more worried, but his radio is already buzzing in his ear and now he doesn’t have to run to the mess to get his coffee so he decides to count it as a win, for the moment. He makes a mental note to check with Lorne about which personnel might be able to override his door lock, other than McKay that is. John’s pretty sure he never has to worry about Rodney actually leaving coffee behind.

~

The box that shows up in the Daedelus run addressed to John Sheppard is a different sort of surprise. It has John’s name on it, a neatly printed label snugged under about six layers of packing tape – as if someone was worried that it would get misplaced or dropped in with the general delivery. John takes it from Sergeant Lowe carefully, staring at the clean brown edges that give no indication of what’s inside with confusion.

Lowe’s relatively new to Atlantis, and the self designated mailman of the city. John understands why Lowe wants that, even though it means tracking people down and trudging through the city with a handcart, but with every package delivered he gets a grin, a moment of joy from every member of the expedition that has someone back on earth thinking about them. The feeling sticks, and now every time Lowe passes someone in the hall, they look at him and grin, because he reminds them of their little piece of happiness.

John can feel Lowe watching him, waiting for the flash of a smile even though he’s sure the only thing written in his expression is confusion slowly sliding into curiosity. John lets the corner of his mouth curl up, glancing up at Lowe to nod his thanks before tucking the box under his arm and heading to the staff meeting that he’s suddenly late for.

~

The box sits on the table throughout the meeting, innocuous temptation wrapped up in a plain brown wrapper. Rodney keeps glancing at it, even in the middle of his presentation on modifications to the city’s desalinization system, his words trailing off into a lull of silence before he jerks back to himself. “Well. Right. Where was I then? Oh, yes...”

John smirks, rubbing the tip of his pinkie against the box lightly, just enough movement to draw Rodney’s eyes back, a pink flush crawling across his cheeks. Rodney kicks the side of his foot when he finally sits back down, hissing under his breath at John. “Stop fondling your package in the meeting, Colonel. It’s distracting.”

John huffs out a laugh under his breath, pushing back against Rodney’s leg with his own. He looks up at Rodney from under his eyelashes, letting a coy smile slide across his mouth. “Aw Rodney, are you jealous?”

Rodney splutters, pushing himself away from the conference table and throwing his hands up in the air, muttering something under his breath that sounds vaguely like ‘right of course, because I don’t have better things to worry about than what’s in your little box.’

John grins, looking up at Ronon and Teyla who are watching him with amusement playing across their faces. Teyla draws her smile back into an expression of quiet seriousness. “You should not tease Dr. McKay so. He can be quite sensitive about certain things I have found.”

Ronon just snorts. “He’s just jealous because he didn’t get anything in the supply run.”

John stands up, grabbing the box with both hands and tucking it under his arm as he walks toward the door. “Speaking of, I don’t even know what’s in here. I didn’t actually order anything.”

~

John takes the box to his quarters, fully intending to cut open the packing tape and see what secret thing is hiding under the unassuming cardboard. Of course, this being Pegasus, Carter’s voice crackles into his ear as soon as he steps through his door and he ends up throwing the box on his bed because someone has gotten stuck in a room halfway across the city. After six hours spent trying to pry the doors open with his hands and the back of his mind begging _please, please, open, come on_ , topped off by the claxon of the gate activating and Lorne’s team dragging themselves into the control room with a bloodied Parrish and gunshots on their heels, John’s basically forgotten about the mystery box and the only concern he has is that he’s missed the semi-edible food that comes with the arrival of the Daedelus.

Rodney falls into step beside him as he works his way through the corridors toward the mess hall, looking flushed and sweaty and decidedly too quiet. He’s also glancing at John every few steps or so, eyes darting back whenever John turns his head to look in Rodney’s direction. Finally, John decides he’s had enough, stopping short in the middle of the hall and throwing his hands in the air.

“What? Do I have something on my face or are you trying to tell me something, because let me tell you, whenever you get quiet like this it starts to make me worry and I haven’t had the best day, so if it’s going to get worse I’d like to know now so I can brace myself, alright?”

Rodney looks taken aback, raising his hands in defense and opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

“I – It’s nothing. I was just – just wondering if you’d, that is, if you’d had time to open your pr – er your package. From the mail. That is, I was wondering what you got. Not that it’s any of my business. I mean.”

John raises an eyebrow, tilting his head as Rodney splutters through an explanation, finally grabbing his hands so Rodney will stop to breath and so he can get a word in edgewise.

“No. I haven’t opened it. It’s probably junk mail or something. It’s not like my brother would bother sending me anything, or if he would even know where to send it to have it actually get to me. Look, let’s just go get dinner and then you can come back and see what’s in there, since it’s got you so bent out of shape, okay?”

Rodney snaps his mouth shut and nods, looking pointedly down at where John has his hands wrapped around Rodney’s wrists. John releases his grip, quirking his mouth up into half a smile.

“Come on, let’s see if there’s any of that Salisbury steak left. It may taste like crap, but at least I know what animal it came from.”

John turns and starts off toward the mess hall again, forcing Rodney into a quick jog to catch up with him.

~

John can feel Rodney’s eyes on him all through dinner, a nervous flickering glance that makes his hands fidget. It makes him want to grab Rodney, concentrate that focus in one direction for five seconds just to figure out what he’ll see. It’s a bad idea, a long day coupled with this strange tension that’s been growing over the past few weeks; sneaking up on him in increments until suddenly it’s smacking him in the face that something is changing.

The mess is mostly deserted, but there’s always someone about, always movement on his peripheral reminding him of the weight of the expedition on his shoulders. Combined with the weight of Rodney’s stare, John can’t help but wonder what it will take for the city to sink beneath him. He doesn’t realize he’s stopped moving until Rodney touches him, cool fingers against his wrist so lightly that anyone looking would think it an accident, so specific that John can feel the question in it like its written out in ink across his skin.

John’s chair scrapes across the floor when he stands, the screech of metal excessively loud even over the buzzing in his ears. “Well, come on then. Let’s go see what’s in that box.”

~

They walk through the halls silently, almost close enough to touch, but their shoulders don’t brush together, even when Rodney moves out of the way for one of the botanists pushing a cart down the corridor. John slows as they come up to his room, letting Rodney get to the door first, unsurprised when it slides open without hesitation, supposition confirmed.

The door slides shut with the familiar susurration of displaced air. Rodney stops just inside, unbelievably still for all the energy John knows is rushing under his skin, a mind constantly running at 200 mph. John walks around him, pulled into the gravity of Rodney’s presence with a realization that makes him lightheaded. “So, Rodney, you wouldn’t know anything about the cup of coffee I found in my room this morning, would you? Or the sudden appearance of Power Bars in the jumpers?”

Rodney flushes, heat spreading across his cheekbones and over the tips of his ears. He clears his throat, glancing away again. “I’m certain I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

John grins, his whole face lighting up. “Are you courtin' me or something, McKay?” He can feel it; the tension of the day melting away as the proximity between them increases, the weight of everyone’s life lifting as he presses his mouth against Rodney’s, the taste of all that intensity sweet on his tongue.

He never sees these things coming, but he thinks he may be starting to like the surprises that life throws at him. 

****

****

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s sometime in the middle of the night when Rodney remembers the box. He opens his eyes, shifting onto his side to see if he can find it, vaguely recalling them pushing everything on John’s bed to the floor when they’d stumbled backward together.

 

It’s sometime in the middle of the night when Rodney remembers the box. He opens his eyes, shifting onto his side to see if he can find it, vaguely recalling them pushing everything on John’s bed to the floor when they’d stumbled backward together. The memory distracts him for a minute, the surprisingly soft skin of John’s lower back and the feel of coarse hair against his cheek when he’d finally gotten beneath all of John’s layers.

He can pick out the shadows cast by their clothes tossed haphazard across the floor, the tangle of sheets wrapped around John’s foot as it dangles off the side of the bed. Of course seeing John’s bare ankle distracts him again; his eyes drawing up the sweet curve of muscle that is John’s calf, over slightly knobby kneecaps likely damaged by all the running John insists on doing – as if they don’t run enough when their lives are at stake. John’s thighs are strong, dragging up a flash image of legs drawn up to expose more intimate places, his own hands pushing the angle further.

John stirs, turning into the space that was left empty when Rodney sat up. His eyes open blearily, a quick stutter stop of lashes against moon pale cheeks. He reaches out with the arm not trapped under his body, curving forearm and bicep around Rodney’s waist.

“Yer ticklin’, stoppit.” he mumbles, his face turning into the lingering warmth of Rodney’s pillow.

Rodney draws his eyebrows together, confused for a second before John pulls his hand back and drops it down over Rodney’s fingers. He doesn’t realize until that moment that he’s been petting John, running his fingertips through the hair on his thighs mindlessly. John smiles, his eyes cast in shadow and hidden behind the drop of his eyelids.

“What’re you doin?” he asks, his voice barely a rasp of breath across the military issue cotton pillowcase. “Stop thinkin’ so much, s’late.”

Rodney leans back on his elbow, his fingers twitching under the trap of John’s palm. “You never opened your package.” Rodney whispers, afraid to break the spell of moonlight and half sleep.

John twists their fingers together, tugging on Rodney’s hand until he falls back to rest his head on the pillow, the soft rush of John’s breath a tease against his mouth.

“S’it important?”

John’s tracing his fingers up Rodney’s arm now, a light flicker of touch over the inside of his wrist, a kiss of friction over the juncture of his elbow. Rodney closes his eyes, thinks of the weeks spent searching for something that would catch John’s eye, that would draw out the smile that eclipses the false charm he displays to the rest of the galaxy. He pictures over a thousand pieces of plastic meticulously encased in packaging peanuts, detailed instructions emailed to Jeannie that heralded a series of biting responses questioning his sanity and his manhood. He looks at John, finally close enough to touch, sleep warm skin under his hands and the line of tension in his jaw uncoiling. He shifts that last inch forward, mapping the curve of teeth and the soft slide of tongue, pulling back just far enough to paint John’s name across his mouth.

It will keep until morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and because, no I still didn't spell it out - [here is what's inside the box](http://cgi.ebay.com/LEGO-Star-Wars-7191-X-Wing-Fighter-Luke-Jedi-UCS-NEW_W0QQitemZ380020759877QQihZ025QQcategoryZ19009QQrdZ1QQssPageNameZWD4VQQcmdZViewItemQQ_trksidZp1638Q2em124#ebayphotohosting).  



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